


Profoundly Bound

by Amelia_Clark



Series: 30 Day Cheesy Trope Challenge [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fic, Bunker Sex, Dungeon Sex, Episode: s08e22 Clip Show, Feels, First Kiss, First Time, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Sam Ships It, oh look a conversation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2018-02-24 14:48:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2585279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amelia_Clark/pseuds/Amelia_Clark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas doesn't know how to fix things with Dean after that terrible scene in the crypt. And maybe it's for the best that he doesn't try—he can't help but notice that historically, when he's tried to fix anything (Heaven, Earth, Sam), he's left it worse than it was before. Free will seems to consist mostly of the freedom to make the worst choices, ones that hurt himself and the world and the people he loves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Profoundly Bound

**Author's Note:**

> **#13: Handcuffed together**

Cas doesn't know how to fix things with Dean after that terrible scene in the crypt. And maybe it's for the best that he doesn't try—he can't help but notice that historically, when he's tried to fix anything (Heaven, Earth, Sam), he's left it worse than it was before. Free will seems to consist mostly of the freedom to make the worst choices, ones that hurt himself and the world and the people he loves.

But he still _wants_ to fix things, and that doesn't feel like freedom at all. He's never felt quite free where Dean is concerned, somehow; he has this restless drive, a gut-level need to be near him, to serve him. Once he thought this feeling akin to his blind devotion to his Father, but after this much time among humans he knows it's not the same at all.

So Dean's hostility, the way he walks by Cas without even a greeting, it's not just a problem to be fixed. It's a wound to be healed, and grace is not enough.

Even Sam can feel the wrongness of the rift between them, caught in the middle as he so often is. Cas is sure he's spoken to Dean about it, and he's equally sure Dean dug in his heels and refused to budge. Because that's what the Winchesters do, trading off roles: the stubborn sulker, the voice of reason. Cas trails behind them while they search for room 7B, still trying to puzzle out a solution—maybe he could give Dean a gift? he enjoys pie, and pornography—when Dean pushes aside a shelf and there's a chamber full of chains before them, clearly meant to contain supernatural beings.

"Whoa," says Dean. "We have a dungeon."

They walk around the room, cataloging the instruments at their disposal; Sam picks up a pair of shackles, rattles the links between them where they run through a hook in the wall. "Hey guys," he says in his 'get this' voice. "Come here for a second."

Cas glances over at Dean, who shrugs and scowls, and they head over to investigate. "See the spellwork on these cuffs?" says Sam. "These chains should hold a demon. And, I hope, an angel."

"You hope?" asks Dean, but instead of answering Sam grabs his wrist, locks one manacle around it—and before Cas can even respond he's similarly fettered. And yes, it is enough to hold an angel.

"Sam, what the _fuck,"_ Dean roars, and Sam steps away, leaving them chained together.

"Look, you guys. You need to hash this out, OK? Dean, you need to get over yourself and forgive Cas, like I know you will eventually, because you always do. And Cas, I know you fucked up, and I know you want to make it right somehow...I don't know how to do that. But I know I need you united. So if this is what it takes to do it? So be it."

And he turns and walks out of the dungeon, shoves the bookshelf back in front of the door.

"FUCK!" Dean yells. "Fucking goddamn fucking fuck!!" He tugs at the chain uselessly, the violent movement throwing Cas off balance; he falls and can't help but pull Dean down with him. Dean growls and moves away, dragging the chain to its full length, and sits up against the wall, as angry as Cas has ever seen him.

"Dean," says Cas, quietly. "Dean, I'm—"

"If you fucking say you're sorry one more time, Cas, I'm going to kill you," snaps Dean.

"I wasn't going to," says Cas, although it's a lie. "I was only—Sam's right, you know he is. We can't fight like this."

"Then leave!" yells Dean. "Leave, like you always fucking do. Fuck off to Heaven, go make them miserable for a change. You're going to leave anyway, you never stay." 

And it's only because Cas has listened to Dean for years—enraged, despairing, whispering prayers in the dark—that he can hear the hurt in his voice, surging up beneath the anger. "Is that what's bothering you?" he asks. "That I left?"

Dean's silent for a full minute. He lifts the chain again, clatters it futilely. "Maybe," he admits. The anger's still there, but it's being shoved aside by something else, something raw and vulnerable. "I hate it that you leave. You left me, in the crypt, after everything, after—you just healed me and ran away like I'd be fine. I hate you for that."

Cas closes his eyes, hating himself in turn. "She made me kill you," he says.

"What?"

"Naomi. When I was under her control, she made me rehearse, on projections of you. She made me kill you over and over, Dean, dozens of you, hundreds of you, so I'd be ready. And I did it. I killed you so many times." Cas realizes his face is wet, and he raises a hand to wipe the tear away, lifting Dean's hand with it.

"So why didn't you, then? You were ready to kill me, I could tell. Why didn't you just fucking do it?"

"Oh for God's sake, Dean," says Cas bitterly. "You know why."

There's another silence, the loudest that's ever stretched between them. "Because of what I said," Dean mumbles. "Because I—because I needed you."

"Yes," says Cas, and the air in the dungeon changes, the acrid edge of fury shifting into a humming electricity that hits Cas in the pit of his stomach.

"And you know what I meant, right?" asks Dean, his voice so small only an angel could hear it.

"Yes," Cas says again.

"Huh," is Dean's only response.

"I need you too, you know," Cas says after a moment. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah."

The chain clinks against the wall while Cas moves closer, his heart pounding. "Dean," he says. "Dean, please, can I kiss you?"

Dean doesn't answer with words, just leans forward and presses his mouth against Cas's, warm and full and merciful. Cas moans in the back of his throat, helplessly, and parts his lips; Dean's tongue slides with his, his free hand comes up to grab at Cas's hair.

The kiss doesn't last for more than a few minutes, but there are years in it, years of longing and pain, and when Dean pulls away to breathe his eyes find Cas's and hold them. "Cas," he says. "Angel."

The first time was slow, exploratory; when their mouths find each other again, it's urgent, Dean bites at his lip and pants, "Cas, I want--I want you, can I," the hand in Cas's hair moves down his chest, starts to untuck his shirt. "Can I touch you? Will it be too much?"

"Yes," gasps Cas, "yes, no, I've waited so long."

Dean licks at his jaw and yanks the shirt free, spreads his hand over Cas's stomach and keeps moving down, dipping beneath his waistband. "I can't do this one-handed," he says. "Help me."

They fumble Cas's pants open together, kissing all the while, and then Dean's hand is on his cock and all he can think is yes. So he says it, keeps saying it while Dean palms him gently, while Cas finds Dean's fly and rips the studs through the denim pulling it open, tries to imitate what Dean's doing to him. But it's too much, he can't process the sensations, and Dean shifts to straddle him, strokes their cocks together, and then all at once Cas is coming, stars behind his eyelids and Dean's name on his lips.

Dean continues to roll against him, hand moving faster on his own cock, and Cas reaches down awkwardly to touch him and then Dean comes too, sticky on Cas's belly and shirttails. Head dropping to Cas's shoulder, Dean murmurs something into his skin.

"What did you say?" Cas asks.

Dean sits up and tries to meet his eyes but can't. "When I said I needed you. You said you know what that meant."

"Yes," says Cas. "I love you too, Dean."


End file.
